Of Pon Farr and Hover Bikes
by snorting chords
Summary: When Spock starts to experience a 'change' Amanda demands Sarek explain pon farr over a hover-bike lesson. Awkwardness ensues. Spock/Sarek bonding and minor Sarek/Amanda and light reference to sexy-times/pon farr.
1. Time to Talk

After seventeen years of marriage, Sarek had deduced many facts about Amanda Grayson. The most important of these facts was that under no circumstances could he assume anything about his human wife. Perhaps he was wrong in his beliefs that humans could not control their emotions, or maybe she was just better at being a Vulcan than he thought. But no matter what the cause, Sarek learnt the hard way that his wife was extremely adept at hiding her feelings when it suited her.

It was both amusing and illogically frustrating that she could read him so well, all the little nuances and tells that he wasn't even aware his face betrayed until she pointed them out with a laugh. Yet when it came to her, his human wife who made no move to hide her own feelings, he always came up short. In that respect he believed the Elders to be wrong; humans were complex beings, especially women.

So when Amanda leant herself against the doorway to his study, watching him as he ran a careful thumb down his PADD, he couldn't put his finger on what she wanted. Turning his attentions away from his work with what would have been an exasperated sigh if he had been anything but Vulcan, Sarek fixed his wife with a curious look.

"Do you require something k'diwa?" he questioned, hands steepled carefully beneath his chin as he took her in. After so many years together, and in the privacy of their own home, Sarek allowed himself to study her form which was still pleasing to him. From the dirt not quite cleaned from her fingertips, Sarek deduced that she had been in the garden with Spock - quite a common activity for them to engage in while he was working and his son was not in lessons. She never required his presence in the garden – and he had offered several times – so clearly it was not that which had brought her to his study.

Allowing his eyes to fix back on her face, Sarek attempted to gauge her motives. Amanda respected his work and rarely disturbed him, just one of the many facets of her personality he enjoyed. She was not distressed, on the contrary; she was wearing a faint smile, the edges of her lips quirked up in what he believed to be amusement. However she had still not answered his question or moved from her place in the doorway. Fascinating. Perhaps this was one of her games in which she encouraged him to discover her needs himself. It was one he was familiar with, though it was normally restricted to their bedroom.

Perhaps that was it, Sarek thought to himself, reaching out with his mind through their bond to try and detect some form of arousal in his wife. To help his efforts, he stood and moved over to her, pressing his fingertips lightly against her temple.

"Do you require physical stimulation perhaps?" He couldn't sense any lust in her but neither could he guess why else she would cut short her weekly activity with Spock. So the only logical thing to do was ask. "I would be happy to oblige after our work is completed."

"No, I don't require physical stimulation." Amanda finally replied, reaching up to place her hand over his. Her smile had grown wider and Sarek allowed himself a moment of relief that his question had not offended her. At occasional points during the month, Sarek had found Amanda not at all pleased with his offers and not amused with his choice of terminology. It was highly illogical but he had found the best way to deal with these instances: leave her alone.

"Is there another problem troubling you?" Probing further into her mind, Sarek could sense nothing out of the ordinary except- there it was. Spock was weighing heavily on her mind, though the cause of this extra worry was not accessible. "Spock is troubling you?"

Her smile faltered a little and she clasped her fingers around his and gently guided his fingers away from her temple. It would have been quicker to just press her thoughts onto his mind but as always Amanda preferred to talk these things out. "Yes and no. He's..." Here she paused, brow furrowing as she tried to find the correct words. "Going through a change."

"It is to be expected, k'diwa. He is fifteen years of age, and both his Vulcan and Human physiology deems that he experience physical changes."

"I know that, but it's not that kind of change. Not exactly." Amanda replied with a shake of her head, her smile once again appearing. No doubt at his expense. "The kind of change that _you _must explain to him."

Now he was confused.

"I do not follow. Has he not read the Vulcan biology books I purchased for him?"

"Yes, and I'm sure he has studied them at great length. But I think it's more his... primal urges that are bothering him." Amanda clarified with a vague motion of her hand, heat rising to her cheeks. "I tried explaining it to him but, well, these things are better coming from you. From a father. A man."

"You mean..." His words died on his lips as he felt his own cheeks rise in temperature, flushing a bright green that caused Amanda to laugh and reach forwards, pressing her palms against them.

"Yes Sarek." she grinned. The pads of her thumbs ran over his jawline, an intimate gesture that she thankfully reserved for the privacy of their own home. "_That_ talk. It's time. He's been having urges and don't you _dare_ just tell him to meditate them away." Her voice deepened, her smile taking on a more mischievous quality. "You and I both know that doesn't work."

There was a long pause. "Perhaps a woman's opinion may-"

"Oh no. You knew this day was coming." She cut off any further protests with a chaste kiss to his lips before giving him a push out the door. "Take him out, teach him to ride the hover-bike. Bond."

With one look at his wife, Sarek knew he'd lost this battle before he even began fighting. There was nothing for it, he would have to have _the talk_.

As he made his way to Spock's bedroom, he wondered if there were any upcoming off-planet ambassadorial trips he could attend after this.


	2. Practical Application

**A/N: **Alright I know absolutely NOTHING about bikes, so excuse the failure of this chapter. The next one will be up a lot faster I promise, and thank you for all the lovely reviews, they're what keep me writing! Teenagers are tough to write, and Vulcan are tougher so I really don't think I got their voices right. But alas. The real awkwardness is next chapter, which you can expect in the next few days!

* * *

This was simply illogical. Spock could find no other explanation. And if there was one thing he hated (not that Vulcans _hated_ anything of course) it was puzzles he could not figure out. While it was... trying to remain in control of his emotions as easily as the rest of his people did, Spock found great comfort in math and other mental stimuli.

To find something he could not explain was disturbing.

In an attempts to try and figure out what had happened, Spock found himself thinking about the events that had transpired. The day had begun as normal. He had risen at dawn, eaten the breakfast his mother prepared, bid her goodbye and made his way to lessons. There he was placed into his learning circle and given a list of complex equations to solve. It had been a good day; he managed to solve the list in thirteen minutes and fifty two seconds – a personal best. The tutor said nothing of course, as expected. Yet within the dark recesses of his mind, the parts that the Vulcan control had not yet reached, he allowed himself to feel slight pride in his work. While he was constantly reminded that he did not fit in here, his mind was a constant. For all his shortcomings, Spock had never failed to rise to the top of all his classes.

But, of course, a good day never lasted. There was a saying his mother muttered to herself when one of her Terran plants failed to survive in the Vulcan environment; nothing lasts forever. Sitting in the meditation area of his bedroom, Spock found this sentiment to ring true.

After he was dismissed from the learning circle Spock had made his way home, as he always did. The few of his classmates that he passed did not greet him, as had become routine. Ever polite, Spock raised his hand in typical greeting, not expecting one to return in. One could argue that this was disrespectful but he had come to learn respect was not granted to a hybrid such as himself. Yet on this day T'rel chose to reciprocate as he passed, raising a hand in reply to his greeting though she didn't say anything to him.

Looking back on events, Spock could see that was the catalyst. The effect. Yet the reason for the cause was still escaping him. He had seen T'rel every day for years. She was bonded to one of the others – Salek if his memory was correct which it always was – and no more aesthetically pleasing than the other females in the school. In fact, if he were to indulge the illogical part of his mind that still plagued him on occasion, he would go as far as to call her rather plain. He felt no attachment to her. They had simply been exchanging greetings, a polite ritual expressed by many humanoids.

So why the hell had he turned the corner and found his underwear had become extremely tight?

It was completely illogical, unnatural and frankly embarrassing. He hadn't even been able to manage to greet his mother when he finally got home. Instead of going with her to the garden, he rushed past her and shut himself in his bedroom, blocking out her gentle knocks at the door and pleas to let her in. Instead he settled himself down on the floor and tried to meditate on the problem in the hopes it would go away.

Ten minutes and no such luck.

Another knock on the door – more forceful this time, so he guessed it was his father – drew Spock out of his meditative state.

"Spock." his father spoke, and he could feel a gentle probing against his mind. Normally Spock would allow this familial bond but today he shut it down, blocking out Sarek's mind as he had blocked out his mothers voice.

Apparently the sanctity of his bedroom did not apply anymore as Sarek entered anyway, standing in the doorway to observe his son. Spock didn't open his eyes, attempted to get back into the relaxed state of mind in the hopes his father would leave and he wouldn't have to get up. It was distressing enough to be afflicted with this condition – which none of his books explained – but he didn't want Sarek to know about it. His failures as a son were already great, there was no need to add to them.

"I requested your attention Spock. It is impolite to ignore." A momentary flash of rebellion overtook him and he let his features fall into a scowl before schooling them back into an impassive mask. But his father was not put off and simply continued, "Walk with me Son."

Knowing that his mother had probably told him something was wrong and that Sarek would not leave a request from his wife ignored, so he reluctantly rose to his feet and turned to face him. The older Vulcan turned on his heel and began down the hallway, leaving Spock to trail after him with hands clasped in front instead of behind his back. They headed outside, veering to the left towards the small square of land that was kept for his fathers hover-bike.

"Father?"

"Your mother made a logical suggestion that I teach you to ride a hover-bike. A valid suggestion. You are of age to acquire this skill, and it is one of the most efficient forms of travel."

Spock let out a silent sight of relief. For a moment he thought his father was going to question him about his rudeness, but apparently Amanda hadn't mentioned that to her husband. At times Spock felt the urge to embrace his mother tightly, but he quickly pushed it away to give way for another emotion he worked to stifle.

Apprehension.

Statistically, his father was right. The efficiency of travelling by hover-bike was thirteen point nine percent more than using any other vehicle. The dangers that befell many other modes of transportation did not apply and he was of the correct age. Also, the chances of being in an accident were approximately eight point two percent lower.

But as he eyed the sleek, black leather seat, Spock didn't care much for statistics. An image of toppling over as soon as he mounted it flashed in his mind, and he could feel his heart beat increase and his pupils dilate. He swallowed his worries down, watching as his father easily swung a leg over the bike and pushed himself up straight with the other foot. Well it didn't look _that_ hard.

"Come here Spock." Sarek had begun touching controls on the bike, and looked up to command him over. He obeyed, eyes roaming over the different buttons and lights, memorizing the symbols. "This starts the ignition. Do you see this screen? It informs you of the speed, while this slide controls it. Each of these controls will adjust the engine to suit the meteorological climate. This display will show the systems, and these buttons beside it will allow you to correct any anomaly in its function. Do you understand?"

It was simple enough to understand, as the bike didn't contain very many specific functions. The technology was basic; a seven year old could work it. Ignoring the sting that his father even had to ask, Spock nodded and Sarek seemed satisfied. He motioned for him to get on the bike behind him, passing back a helmet before putting on his own.

"It would be illogical to ride without sensible attire." Once he was sure both of them had affixed their helmets properly, Sarek powered the bike up and kicked out the support. As soon as it was gone, the bike began to propel upwards a few inches. The older Vulcan patted his sides. "You must instruct your passenger, should you have one, to anchor their weight by affixing their hands to your middle."

Spock shifted forwards to do as Sarek instructed, careful to keep the slight panic he felt from seeping through. He took a few deep, slow breaths as the hover-bike continued to rise from the ground until it was a good five or six feet from its previous position. After the initial shock of being in the air wore off the feeling was almost enjoyable.

"As we circle around the property take careful note of what I am doing, particularly how I manoeuvre."

Three laps around the house later, Sarek parked the bike back down and slid off the seat, leaving Spock on the bike alone. His father was a believer in the practical application of knowledge; once something was explained and the student grasped the workings of the subject, the best way to test them was to allow them to use those skills in the field. And normally he would agree with his father, appreciated the freedom this theory gave him.

What he did not appreciate was the possibility of falling seven feet through the air and possibly breaking an appendage. He couldn't even calculate the odds of it happening, just sat there staring at the space where his father had been. Spock glanced over at him, eyes slightly wide. It was a surprise that he hadn't toppled over on the bike yet, and as soon as he thought it his hands reached forwards and gripped the handles tightly just in case he did.

"You understand how to work it. You will not fail." It was the closest thing to reassurance he'd get, and all he could do was nod.

Placing his feet in the rests as his father had, he slowly let go of one handle to fire up the ignition, slowly allowing the bike to get higher and higher in the air. Once he was up there, he glanced down and wondered if the fall was great enough to seriously break something. Taking the wind strength, proximity of the ground and possible angles in which he could fall from the bike, Spock calculated that the chances he would fracture bone on descent were less than three percent. It was a safe distance, and the math behind the equation calmed the nerves he had.

He shifted his foot back, pressing a heel against the propulsion of the bike and was away.

It wasn't until the sixth lap that he realized he hadn't thought about the earlier incident at all.

"Spock." He heard his father call to him as he circled back around, and saw the motion of his hand. Obliging, he slowly lowered the bike back down, proud when he only slightly bumped the front against the ground. Too much weight bearing forwards, easily fixable. Parking was simply the correct application of weight versus position.

As soon as he was back down, Sarek slid on the back behind him and placed his hands on Spock's shoulders. "Continue," he commanded and he obeyed, kicking back and once again propelling the bike up and forwards. "To the T'ket plains. I trust you can navigate the path easily?"

"Yes Father." Spock dutifully replied, carefully veering the bike left towards the area of land his father had indicated. "May I inquire why the T'ket plains?"

Maybe it was his imagination, but Spock felt his hands tighten on his shoulders, and could sense a wave of discomfort coming from his father.

"There is a matter I believe we must discuss." Sarek said after a moments pause. "A matter of biology."

If Spock used the Terran curses he occasionally heard his mother voice, he believed the correct one for this situation would be 'fuck'.


End file.
